The Uprise
by LOLretardpanda23
Summary: Maerad, Hem, and their friends finally get to live the lives of comfort they've always dreamed of but when mysterious strangers enter their circle, who can they trust when one they thought they could trust most betrays them? M/c, h/oc
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

A light drizzle splashed on the shutters blockading the windows to Maerad's room. A pasty white candle sat on her desk burning steadily down—wax already dribbling down the edges to harden into veins trailing down the length of the pillar—was casting a golden glow within the room. Frustrated, she threw the quill she had been gripping in her palm onto the wooden surface. Then, remembering it had belonged to her dear friend, Dernhil, she scooped it back up and smoothed out the feathers. Before her lay sheet upon sheet of paper—all displaying a cluster of messy chicken scratched words and phrases.

She had been in Innail for nearly a month, continuing her studies and yet, her writing had yet to improve. Elbows on the desk, she buried her face in her hands—one missing two fingers—and glared angrily into the darkness. Hem, her brother, was no where to be found—at least no where near the bardhouse—and Irc, his white crow, was missing as well. _At least he's not alone_. Maerad huffed in her mind, _Where's Cadvan when I need him?_

She pushed back the chair she had been sitting on for the past hour, its legs scratching against the polished oak floorboards. Sweeping her cloak off of her bed, she stepped through the door and into the hallway. Swinging her head around, she saw no one—not a bard nor student. "Strange," She murmured under her breath, "Did they all get chased away by the rain? It's nothing—just a sprinkle."

A hand clasped her shoulder and she whirled around, her maimed hand reaching for the hilt of her sword—one she was accustomed to have strapped around her waist. Cadvan's boots squeaked against the floor as he stepped back, raising his hands over his head, he shot her a quirky grin, "Maerad, what a pleasure. I was just coming to fetch you."

Maerad swore softly as she let her hand drop away from her sword, "Cadvan, don't do that."

"I swear I won't ever again," Cadvan chuckled, his eyes sparkling, "If you will accompany me—a group of players have traveled far and are setting up to perform."

"In the rain?" Maerad gasped, "Won't they get drenched?"

Cadvan shrugged, "Wet, yes."

"Then what is the point?" Maerad huffed taking a step back towards her room, "I'd prefer not to get drenched like a wet dog."

Cadvan lurched forward and grasped her hand, pulling her towards him, "Now, I think you have been cooped up far too long today. It is time to stretch those legs of yours. Hem and Saliman are expecting us—what would I tell them if you did not choose to show your face?"

Maerad's eyes shot up to his, "I need to perfect my writing."

"You will have plenty of time for that." Cadvan assured her, "And you have been doing nothing else since you arrived here."

Sighing, she stepped away from her door, "Fine."

Cadvan pulled her close and pressed his lips against the top of her head for such a short moment, Maerad wasn't sure if it happened at all. "That is more like it."

Wrapping her slender fingers around his rough, calloused hands, she smiled up at him, "I hope you realize I am doing this for Hem—not for you."

Taken by surprise, Cadvan paused in his step, his face frozen in complete shock. Maerad laughed, pulled her hand away and made a mad dash down the hall—stopping only to wink at him before turning the corner.

Hem tapped his foot impatiently, fingers drumming against the cold stone of the paved ground. Irc shifted eagerly on his shoulder, shaking stray drops of water from his pearly white wings. The rain had stopped and the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the cheerlessly gray clouds casting a dazzling glow through the air.

Hem had no idea where Saliman, Cadvan, or Maerad were—and for the moment, he couldn't care. Instead, his focus was directed towards the stage where the players would soon appear and dazzle him. Henkibel—he knew—was already behind the curtains helping her old friends—just reunited—by playing minor parts in their production. Deep down, he felt an urge to join her, play some part—yet the whole of him shouted that he would not only stumble on his lines, but stumble over his feet as well. Sighing, he stayed put.

Irc cheeped and nuzzled his neck. Hem reached up and tickled his friend's throat with his index finger mindlessly. Already, people had started to gather around him and the stage, squeaking excitedly about how it was about time the players returned while some mumbled about how good it should be—given the players' expertise. _I am hungry_. Irc peeped in Hem's mind,_ Feed me?_

_Later, after the show_. Hem said adamantly.

He drowned out the rest of Irc's pleading by choosing to people-watch instead. What he saw next almost made his eyes pop out of his head. Rubbing his face and pinching his arms, he looked again. _It cannot be!_ He shouted.

Irc paused in confusion, _What is it?_

In front of him—not far in the crowd—stood a girl, her ocean of brown curls fell over her face. She had the light-brown skin of those Hem had become familiar with when he and Saliman were in Turbansk—and her face; he'd never forget that face. Jumping up, he made a rush towards her—Irc flapping into the air in bewilderment. Tears of surprise and happiness trickled down Hem's cheeks. _Who is it? _Irc asked_, who is it?_

Hem paused to swipe his sleeve across his face and glanced at Irc, _It's Zelika._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Hey guys! Forgot to say that, these wonderful characters belong to Alison Croggon!! (Well, except for a couple :O) aha, anywayss, hope you like the next chapter. I apologize if it sucks, but ive been in a major writer's block lately. Ahaha, well, have funn but just a reminder: reviews make me happy! ******** thanks!**

Chapter Two

_It isn't her!_ Irc cawed, flapping after his friend, _Please stop! It is not, Zelika! Zelika is—_

Hem ignored him; it had to be her, he knew it to be so. Weaving through the mass of people crowding the Inner Circle, he kept his eyes locked on her back as she stood there—like all others—waiting for the show. As soon as he was close enough to hear her voice, he threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her petite waist and burying his head in her hair. She let out a yelp of surprise before elbowing Hem in the stomach causing him to release his grip and buckle down towards the ground.

Clutching his stomach, he glanced up. Furious eyes bore into his, 'Zelika' had her hands balled in to fists and pressed against her sides. Tremors of rage—or perhaps fear—caused her entire frame to quiver. Groaning, Hem struggled to stand up straight but he managed it, nonetheless. "I—I'm sorry. I mistook you for another. I beg your forgiveness." He mumbled, "My name is Hem."

Sticking out his hand, he watched as she wearily took it in hers. "My…my name is Suri. You—you're a bard, no?"

Hem nodded, "Yes, I am a bard."

Suri smiled softly, "As am I. Did I hurt…you much?" She said in shaky Annaren.

Sighing, Hem shook his head and replied in the Speech, "No, I am fine. Are you new here? I have not seen your face."

"I traveled far, I am weary." Suri murmured, "I arrived only today."

Hem took notice of her stained dress and matted hair, "You came alone?"

Suri's eyes shot to her feet, "No, I came with Siria. She is my only friend now. My entire family was murdered when Baladh fell."

Almost as if summoned, a large black hound appeared at Suri's feet and the edges of its mouth pulled back in a snarl. Hem took a cautious step back as Irc clung to his shoulder, hiding his head in the boy's hair. "Do not fear, Siria. She is protecting me."

Hem's muscles relaxed and he reached his hand out to the hound, "Greetings, Siria."

Siria swung her massive, blocky head towards Suri who nodded towards Hem, then bowed her head, _Greetings_.

Hem scratched her ears before turning towards Suri who, despite her darker skin, looked pale and about to topple over. He reached towards her and grasped her forearm just as she was about to fall, "Are you alright?"

"So…so…" Suri murmured in broken Annaren.

Siria nuzzled her friend's leg and turned towards Hem and Irc, _She is nothing but exhausted. If you are truly a bard, show us the bardhouse._

Hem hesitated, still gripping Suri's arm tightly. Siria huffed, _What might you be waiting for?_

Turning towards Irc, Hem said, "Find Saliman."

_I am hungry and you have not fed me_. Irc snapped, _Why must I do your bidding?_Hem sighed, "Go now, and find Saliman and I will reward you with an entire table of food just for you."

Tempted, Irc bobbed his head once and took off, fly low—barely above the heads of the players' audience—searching for Saliman. Siria whined impatiently and turned her chocolate eyes to Hem who simply nodded, and began walking towards the bardhouse.

~*~*~

Maerad shuffled slowly down the street hand in hand with Cadvan enjoying the peace of the day. Most of the crowd had strayed from their homes and shops to witness the players' performance, leaving the streets empty and quiet. Neither of them spoke, as if even the tiniest whisper could shatter the tranquility. Hardly did Maerad remember the time in which they had no time for moments like this—when they were running from the Dark. It wasn't deep in her past, but she had buried the memory deep in her mind wanting to forget the tragedies that had unfolded during that time.

Suddenly, Cadvan froze in mid-step and glared at the street ahead of them with a slight confusion. Maerad followed his gaze until she saw a pair of people hobbling towards them with a large, black hound at their heels. "Hem?" Maerad wondered out loud.

"It would seem so." Cadvan shrugged, "Who is that he is with?"

Maerad didn't respond with words but instead tugged her hand out of his and jogged towards her brother. She hiked up her skirts as she ran so they wouldn't drag in the mud—or worse, trip her. "Hem! Hem!" she shouted.

As she approached, she saw the figure leaning against her brother's shoulder was certainly a girl wearing a heavily mucked dress, torn and tattered to shreds and her wild curls carried small branches and leaves. Hem looked up at her and gave her a shrug, "Maerad."

"Who is this?" Maerad asked reaching to wipe a smudge of dirt off of Suri's cheek, earning nothing but a snarl from Siria.

"This is," Hem hugged Suri's limp body against his chest to keep her upright, "Suri, she traveled here from Baladh. Her family was killed when—well…you know."

Maerad nodded in understanding and reached out to tilt Suri's face towards hers. Suri's eyes fluttered for a second before falling shut again and her lips murmured unheard words. "And this is Siria." Hem motioned awkwardly towards the hound.

_Do not stand there. We traveled far and for long. _Siria snapped at Maerad.

"She is right; they must have traveled quite a distance if they came from Baladh." Cadvan panted over Maerad's shoulder.

Hem nodded and began to shuffle off in the direction Maerad and Cadvan had come, "I will be sure she is rested." He assured them, "If you see Saliman, please tell him to come quickly; I'm sure I'm going to be in need his help."

Maerad bit her lip, "I should go with you, Hem. It's still a distance to the bardhouse."

Hem glanced at her pleadingly, "Will you accompany me, Maerad?"

Cadvan's hand brushed her shoulder and Maerad looked up at him. "I'll find Saliman. You go where you are needed. I will see you soon." He reassured her in a whisper.

Maerad nodded and followed her brother up the hill towards the bardhouse, lifting Suri's arm over her shoulder to ease her brother's load. Siria trailed close behind, whimpering and rubbing her massive head against Suri's leg the entire distance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Hey everyone! I just wanted to thank xKiagax for the reviews :D and say that the characters (except for some) don't belong to me, they belong to the amazing Alison Croggon! Well, on with the story, here's chapter three!**

Chapter Three

Hem watched nervously as Maerad swabbed a damp cloth across Suri's forehead. Although he was sure now that Suri wasn't Zelika, the similarities in them sparked a deep concern for Suri's health. "Is she alright?" He couldn't keep the shaking from his voice.

Maerad smiled softly, "Yes, she is fine. Surely the healer in you could see that, or has something blurred your Knowing?"

Blushing, Hem's eyes fell to his feet, "It is just…she reminds me of someone I once cared for."

Maerad stepped around the oak frame of the bed that Suri was lay unmoving to brush a lock of hair away from Hem's face. "You are growing up, Hem. I—"

The squeak of the door brought an immediate stop to Maerad's voice. Brother and sister looked up to see the door ease open cautiously as Saliman stepped in. Standing in the hallway, peering in, was Cadvan with Irc perched on his shoulder. Saliman shuffled directly to Suri's bedside without a word and gestured for Maerad and Hem to leave. Nodding curtly, Maerad backed out of the room, rubbing Siria's ears as she passed. As she strode out the room, Cadvan took her hand and the pair walked away whispering softly to another, their footsteps fading with distance.

Hem, instead, slid the door shut and took his place opposite of Saliman, watching Suri's frozen face. It was a while before Saliman spoke, but when he did, his voice was scarce a whisper, "She's just like…"

Hem nodded, "Zelika. I know, it seemed impossible but…they are so similar. She came from Baladh as well…" His voice trailed off as Suri fidgeted in the mass of milky cotton sheets.

Saliman nodded in understanding, "I realize this is very…hard for you, Hem."

Biting his lip, Hem let his eyes drift away from Suri's face. "And I know, seeing her face…now, after all this time."

Hem held up a hand for him to stop, "I really thought it was Zelika, when I first saw her. I hadn't a doubt in my mind—not even as Irc shouted it in my ear. I hadn't realized how much I actually missed her until Suri's elbow dug into my stomach."

Saliman chuckled under his breath, "She sounds much more like Zelika the longer we talk."

"But she's not." Hem's voice was hard, "and once she's rested, she will leave. That is how it is."

Saliman started to reply but Hem shook his head and walked out the door.

~*~*~*~

Maerad and Cadvan sat under the now shimmering sun in silence as they watched Irc flit from tree to tree squawking to the local birds. Cadvan turned to Maerad and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "Maerad." He murmured, "I've been thinking about a lot lately."

Maerad's sparkling cobalt eyes bore into his displaying nothing but affection and trust, "Yes, Cadvan?"

"We've been in Innail for a long time…"

Nodding, Maerad laid her head on Cadvan's chest as his arm slipped around her shoulder. "And everything has seemed fine…"

Cadvan watched as Maerad's eyes stiffened, "Everything…is fine. Isn't it?"

"I didn't want to worry you." Cadvan sighed looking away from her and into the clear blue sky, "I've been discussing this with Malgorn and—"

"You've told Malgorn and you haven't told me?" Maerad jerked away from his grasp.

"Please, understand, Maerad, I didn't wish to worry you." Cadvan sighed, "You remember how Sharma was destroyed during the Singing—"

A shudder ran up Maerad's back at Sharma's name, "What about it?"

"But still, Enkir still strives in Annar—we are not sure where exactly but there has been some—" Cadvan paused, "some raids in small villages—murders."

Maerad swallowed the lump growing in her throat, "Murders. How many?"

"Too many." Cadvan spat, "Even one is too many. Enkir wants, or so I have reason to believe, to pick up where the Nameless One left off."

"He can not! He has no army—he…"

Cadvan pressed a finger to her lips, "I know, Maerad, but he is still too powerful on his own."

"Someone has to stop him."

"Like I said, I've already discussed this with Malgorn…and he's sending a small party in Enkir's wake." Cadvan took her delicate hand in his.

A dreadful feeling surged through Maerad's veins, and she bit her lip, tears already welling in her eyes. "And Maerad," Cadvan's eyes met hers and Maerad turned away.

"Maerad," Cadvan lifted his free hand to her chin and turned her face towards him, "Maerad, I am going with them."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Hey guys (: Thank you so much for the awesome reviews! Just a couple of things to say… the characters and places (except Suri and Siria—so far) belong to Alison Croggon and please, please, please review! I'll love you for life! :D well, here's the next chapter, I hope you like it!!**

Chapter Four

A shiver ran through Maerad's body as she stared out the open window at the gate of Innail. From a distance, a person would have easily mistaken her for a marble statue sculpted with her chin resting on her clenched fists. Her eyes were focused on the four cloaked riders anxiously waiting for the iron-clad door to open. Maerad stared mindlessly as Cadvan's leather gloved hand stroked Darsor's, his horse, neck. Cadvan's head swung towards her and Maerad held her breath, as if—even in the space dividing them—he knew she'd be watching. A bitter distaste filled her mouth and she turned away from the window to sit on her bed.

Pulling her knees up to her chest, she let a tear slide down her cheek, knowing in her heart that she should be down by the gate bidding Cadvan adieu instead of sitting alone in the cold lost in her own sorrowful thoughts. A knock on her door threw her out of her trance and she looked up as Hem stuck his head inside cautiously, "Maerad?"

Maerad let her feet slide off the bed and fall to the ground and held a hand out to Hem. Hem's shuffled across the room and took her outstretched hand in his, "Maerad, do you not want to say goodbye to Cadvan? Saliman's holding the gates in case you—"

Shaking her head, Maerad pulled her hand away from his, "No." She said harshly, "I do not wish to say goodbye to him."

"But why not?" Hem asked, confused.

Maerad stepped back to the window and rested her hands on the sill. A light breeze lifted locks of her hair and she breathed in the fresh air, "Because, Hem. Goodbye seems…too formal." Maerad turned and leaned against the wooden frame, "I feel like…if I say goodbye to Cadvan, I'd never see him again."

"You know that's not true!" Hem interjected.

Maerad shrugged, "That is how I see it." She glanced over her shoulder at the riders impatiently waiting to leave Innail, "No, I do not wish to say goodbye to Cadvan."

Hem stood silently beside her bed, twiddling his thumbs. Maerad watched as the gate finally slid open and three riders gallop through as soon as it was wide enough. One lingered behind and turned his reluctant horse around. Lifting his head, Maerad saw Cadvan's eyes as clear as if he were standing directly in front of her.

Using a silent language, he raised his hand towards her in a motionless wave and dropped it down to his waist. Forlornly, he nodded once, grasped his reins and thundered after his friends down the dirt matted road.

Once he had disappeared in the distance, Maerad shut her windows and pressed her forehead against the shutters. Wrapping her arms around herself, she let the tears stream down her face in narrow streams. Catching her breath for the briefest second, she whispered, "I love you, too, Cadvan."

~*~*~*~

Hem shut the door softly behind him as he slipped out of Maerad's room. Even through the thick wooden door, he could hear her muffled sobs. His heart clenched at every cry that seeped through the door. Shaking his head, he walked down the hallway, his shoes making a soft patter with every step.

He continued in silence, eyes focused on the tiled floor, mind in another world. "Hem?" a small voice whispered behind him.

Startled, he spun around, his muscles tense. Suri's slight frame leaned against the doorway leading to her room. Her overly large nightgown fell over her shoulders and brushed the floor at her feet. To Hem, she looked like a ghost. "Suri." He sighed, "You scared me."

"I apologize," Suri giggled, "I had no idea a Bard whom I have heard so much about could be that easily frightened."

Hem narrowed his eyes, "Do you need anything?" He huffed impatiently.

"No, just company." Suri mumbled, "I have no idea what to do."

Hem stepped towards her, "You could follow me. I am going to find Saliman—he should be near the gates—if you are able."

"I'm fine to do what I please." Suri assured him, "I have been pent up inside a room for far too long."

Hem stared disdainfully at her nightdress, "Do you have anything else to wear?"

Suri's lips pulled down into a slight frown, "This is not acceptable?"

Shaking his head, Hem motioned for Suri to follow him as he brushed past her into her room. An iron tray sat at her bedside with a porcelain bowl perched on top of it—the dohl that was once inside was scraped clean and gone. Hem threw open the wardrobe to reveal silk and cotton gowns of every color.

Suri gasped and reached out to stroke the fabric with a wonder-filled expression plastered on her face. "I am allowed to wear these?"

"I do not see why not." Hem said, "They are here for your use so I am certain you may wear them."

Suri didn't reply and went on to press the fabric against her cheek. "I need to find Saliman." Hem said staring out the open window.

Waving him off, Suri laughed, "Go ahead, I will find you and your Saliman later."

Hem nodded and walked away, passing Siria on his way out. Siria whimpered, and wagged her tail, _It is a beautiful day, my friend_. _Why are you inside?_

_Why are you?_ Hem asked in return, _It is a good day, I am heading out now._

_I came to fetch my friend. Surely we will see you soon? _Siria whined, _Outside?_

Hem smiled and scratched Siria's ear before walking off down the hall.

**Author's note: Ok, ok, so it's not exactly the best chapter. Just thought it'd help bridge things along. Well, review anyways. I'll update as soon as possible (:**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Hey :D It's me; I just wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed (xKiagax, Ash to Dust, heatherlynn13, xLaramiex—thank you so much). I hope you like this chapter, and remember, character/places (besides Suri and Siria and a couple of characters that have not yet been introduced) are not mine, and they belong to Alison Croggon. Well, here's chapter five, enjoy!**

Chapter Five

Cadvan could almost feel the sun pulsing down upon his back as he and his companions clopped down the road beside the Imlan River. The light fractured off of the low waves surging past him like the sun's beams were performing an intricate dance on top of the crisp blue surface. Brushing the back of his hand across his damp forehead, he stared further down the road. Ahead of him rode the brothers, Daivat and Rurik of Norloch, who seemed entirely immune to the heat—their flat, hazel eyes glowering out from beneath their shaggy sandy blonde locks of hair observing the road as if it would suddenly rear up and swallow them whole.

Beside him, the closest thing to company on this trip was mindlessly focused on the trees inching by. "Alden." Cadvan whispered hoarsely low enough for only his friend to hear.

Alden turned his ocean-blue eyes towards Cadvan, his hair flopping with every step of his bay stallion, Arion. "Cadvan?"

"We have to stop eventually." Cadvan murmured, "The horses are weary—as are we."

"I would like nothing better, Cadvan." Alden sighed, "Daivat and Rurik are hard-headed, I'm afraid."

Cadvan sighed and a faint tugging on his heart reminded him of traveling with Maerad. "Something wrong, my friend?" Alden questioned, pulling his steed closer to Darsor's side.

"A slight wish to be home in a soft bed dozing the day away," Cadvan shook his head clear of thoughts, "but we still have a distance to travel—perhaps Daivat and Rurik's determination will lead us places?"

Alden sighed, "I have that wish as well but our duty is our duty." He smiled and shrugged, "But it does feel well to be out under the sun than in a musky room reading the day away."

Cadvan laughed at his optimism and folded his arms over his growling stomach to muffle it for it sounded more like a lion's roar in his own ears. Alden reached into his pack and handed Cadvan a strip of dried pork with a ridiculous grin plastered on his face, "I suppose it is true that hunger quickly overwhelms everyone."

Tearing a piece off with his teeth, Cadvan chewed slowly. "I suppose life of luxury has made me soft." He said finally.

His words were met by Alden's astonished eyes, "The Great Cadvan of Lirigon? Soft?! Say it is not so!"

Cadvan chuckled, "The _Great Cadvan _has grown accustomed to a soft bed to lie upon whenever he wishes and a goblet of Malgorn's wine to sip on when he wakes."

"Aye, but you deserved it after all." Alden assured him, "Aiding the Maid of Innail and all you have done."

"Ah, Maerad." Cadvan sighed, "How I miss her. I wonder if she misses me as well."

"I highly doubt she isn't." Alden patted his friend's shoulder, "You are a lucky man, Cadvan."

Cadvan nodded, "Yes, I am."

*~*~*~*

Saliman leaned back into his chair as he stared across the rooftops of Innail from inside of the watchtower. A crystal glass of straw-colored wine sat untouched in his rough, calloused hands. He hardly heard the swish of Henkibel's dress as she swept behind him and rested her arms on the wooden back of his chair, "Dear Saliman, is something bothering you?" He looked up at her questioningly and she sighed, "You haven't even touched your wine and you are not smiling."

Sighing, Saliman pulled Henkibel by the waist to sit on his lap, "It seems as though every time we think that all bad is gone from Annar, something seeps through the cracks to continue the job."

Henkibel raised Saliman's glass to her lips and took a small sip, "It does feel like that is occurring, yes."

"Cadvan has already departed," Saliman mumbled, "Who knows when he will return. Perhaps, I am next to go in search of the Dark, then Hem, and more than likely Maerad as well."

"The world is such a desolate place to be." Henkibel spoke in a soft whisper, her lips hardly moving, "I sometimes wish I was in another's life—unaware of what has taken place in Annar."

"Easier said than done, my Love." Saliman twirled a lock of her soft hair around his thick finger, "but oh how simple the world could be."

Henkibel nodded silently and leaned against Saliman's firm chest with her head tucked on his shoulder. They sat in there in the blazing heat as the sun inched across the clear blue sky. Finally, Saliman took a gulp from his cup and then set it down again, "But how different life would be. Had life been different, we would not have met," He grinned lazily, "and oh, how hard would life be then?

Giggling under her breath, Henkibel pulled herself off of Saliman's lap and stretched her arms above her head, "My dear Saliman—that would be torture."

*~*~*~*~

Hem lolled down the busy streets of Innail mindlessly staring at the brightly painted stalls boasting magical herbal remedies for warts or a roll of silk spun entirely of strands of gold. Irc fidgeted as he perched on Hem's shoulder rambling on about the sparkling hairpin he had discovered in the empty streets earlier in the day. Cadvan had been gone for nearly three days and Hem had not seen his sister much since he departed.

Her door remained locked to everyone but Silvia whom would enter Maerad's chamber at noon and sundown with a clay bowl of steaming soup and later emerge with it empty and a slight smile on her face. Hem was glad to know that Maerad was not starving herself but he missed the sound of her voice when she laughed and the hum of her lyre when she played for him. Now—even if he press his ear hard against her door— all he heard was the faint scratch of her quill against paper and the occasional curse followed by the a louder crumpling sound.

Suri had improved tremendously well and was constantly wandering the intricate twists of flowers and trees that made up the garden with Siria sniffing in the light aroma of rose and jasmine blossoms. Every so often, Hem would find her in Indik's armory admiring the blades he had welded with his own hands.

Hem felt a slight tug on his hair and glanced over to see Irc with a strand of his hair dangling from his beak before the white crow flapped his wings and lifted into the air. Frowning, Hem continued weaving through the mass of people trudging slowly as they wandered from merchant to merchant in a search for a special something. Keeping an eye on the small white speck flapping through the air, he pushed through the crowd cursing under his breath.

It wasn't long before he steered clear of the crowd and saw Irc waiting impatiently at an unknown windowsill. The hut was unfamiliar to Hem and he stared at its crumbling brick physique. Tiles were missing from the roof and the door was at a crooked angle. The fence was falling, its wood soaked and weak. _What is it, Irc?_ Hem asked, _why did you bring me here?_

Irc cocked his head towards the water stained window and Hem peered inside. In the dim light, Hem saw nothing but two shadowy figures prancing around but straining his eyes further, he saw what seemed like iron swords in their hands. _They're sparring._ Hem thought to Irc, _but who are they?_

Suddenly, one of them stepped into the light and Hem caught a glance of messy, black curls. Clapping his hand over his mouth, he fell away from the window. The clash of sword against sword rang in Hem's ears as they continued to—as Hem saw it—practice.

Suddenly, a body was thrown against the window and Hem saw a figure about Suri's height with waist-length straight ebony hair pinned against the window. The clanging of swords stopped and the body flung against the wall picked herself up and dusted off her sleeves. Turning around, she caught glimpse of Hem and shouted in alarm before jumping back into the shadows.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked again. Hem could have sworn that the figure's eyes seemed familiar to him—deadly familiar. Shaking his head, he reached for the door only to have it swing open on the opposite side. His eyes met Suri's and she stammered a greeting, "Hem, what are you doing here?"

"I was just…" Hem started as he peered over her shoulder, "Who is with you?"

"Siria." Suri's voice was flat and Siria poked her massive nose out from behind her mistress' leg.

"No, no, the girl."

"What girl?" Suri frowned, "It is just me and Siria."

Hem crossed his arms, "The girl you were sparring with."

Suri stared into his eyes for a brief second before pushing past him, "I was not sparring."

Grabbing her arm, Hem pulled her back, "Yes you were. I saw it, I heard it. Who was she?"

Jerking her arm back, Suri stalked off, "I was alone, Hem."

Siria followed at her heels whimpering softly. As she passed by Hem, she threw a knowing glance at him before running off to join her friend.

**Author's note: So…? How was it? It was a tad bit long I guess, but I hope it was good. Sorry about the little wait, I'll update soon! Please, please, please review. Thanks (:**


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